Fear and Loathing
by xAddictedToWordsx
Summary: In episode 2x16, Morgan tried consoling Reid on the plane. How did things work out when they both got home? Did Morgan manage to get through to Reid, or is Reid still haunted by the victims of the case? (MorganxReid)


**Episode: Fear and Loathing (2x16)**

**Spencer Reid/Derek Morgan**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. Any characters or related settings are not mine and belong to CBS and Jeff Davis unless otherwise stated. **

Derek smiled as he dropped the book onto the table between him and Reid. Looking up, he went to ask the young genius if he had read it, but noticed instead that Spencer was sitting with his eyes closed, one hand up to his face as if holding up his head.

He felt a frown beginning to cross his face.

"You alright?"

No answer. He waited a moment before he tried again.

"Reid."

At first, he thought maybe the other man was asleep and therefore unable to hear him, but then he seemed to realise he was being spoken to, and blinked his eyes open.

"Hmm?"

Okay, then…

"I said, are you alright?"

Spencer shrugged, his fingers playing over the cards in his hands.

"I'm fine." He looked around, both directly at Morgan and then behind him, as if to see where the rest of the team were, "Thanks for broadcasting it."

The younger man quickly dropped his gaze, focussing intently on the card he still held in his hands. Morgan felt unease stirring.

"Hey, talk to me. Whatever you say to me in confidence is between us, you know that, right?"

He tried to reassure his team mate, but there was little he could do there on the plane, surrounded as they were by the rest of their friends.

Spencer continued to shuffle the cards. He glanced up at Morgan.

"I have nothing to tell you."

A sad attempt at a smile.

Morgan inwardly sighed. He looked down and leant forward, arms crossing and leaning on the table top before he lifted his eyes to Reid's face once again.

"Reid, listen to me."

The younger man continued to stare at the cards.

"What you went through out there, no one expects you to rebound-"

That got a reaction; Spencer cut him off almost immediately.

"I can still do my job, alright! I'm not going to freak out."

Immediately back to the cards. Morgan relented a little.

"You think I don't know that?"

Warm hazel eyes lifted to meet his own chocolate eyes. Spencer looked around, obviously uncomfortable with the sudden attention on his own life, and finally set down the cards. He started to talk before closing his mouth again. Finally, he gave in.

"It was the crime scene photos."

Morgan was confused. He tried to hide his frown.

"Crime scene photos?"

Spencer looked down hopelessly before finding the right words.

"The dead girls in the leaves."

He still didn't understand. He was trying, but he couldn't understand why it was having such an effect on Reid.

"Reid…we've seen worse."

When he replied, Reid's voice was so quiet that Morgan could barely hear him.

"_I know_."

He thought for a moment.

"I know we've seen worse, but-" he licked suddenly dry lips, moved his jaw a little, "for the first time, I know." Morgan started to see where he was going, and he let Spencer continue. "I look at them, and-"

He looked around the table top, shifted uncomfortably, and seemed to battle for words.

"I look at them, and I, I know what they were thinking, and I know what they were feeling like right before." He looked up at Morgan, as if begging for understanding.

Morgan looked down, a small, barely discernable nod tilting his head. He tried to find the right words to reassure the scared young man in front of him. Eventually, he managed to find some half-decent ones to share.

"It's called empathy, and it's a good thing."

He tried to talk with a little smile, to prove to Spencer that he meant what he was saying. Spencer didn't look convinced. He shifted again and lifted a hand to his face, but gave up and instead rubbed his fingertips into his eyes to wipe away the tears that Morgan had heard building in his voice. He wanted nothing more than to comfort the younger man, and he could feel the urge growing when the young genius spoke again.

"But it's not. It's got me all messed up; I don't know how to focus, I can't do my job as well…" he tried to talk again, but choked up and missed his words. It took another couple of attempts before he was able to talk. He looked imploringly at Morgan.

"So, what do I do?"

Morgan took a breath and looked back into Spencer's eyes.

"You use it."

A small tightening of the younger man's eyes gave Morgan the first glimpse of hope, and he saw Spencer's mind clinging to what he was saying, so he carried on.

"Let it make you a better profiler. A better person."

They stared at each other for a long time, and then Spencer smiled and looked down. Another smile.

"A better person."

Morgan nodded and smiled at the relief he saw on the young man's face. He let out a small, soundless chuckle, and they exchanged another smile before Spencer turned to look out of the window of the jet into the darkness of the night.

Morgan smiled to himself.

Spencer was going to be okay. Pretty boy was going to be just fine.

Derek Morgan stood outside of the familiar apartment he had called 'home' for half of the better part of the last year. But only part of the time. The better part was spent at his town house, with Clooney, and so he rarely stayed here. To be honest, it was rare that anyone stayed here, but they felt just as comfortable on the fourth floor as on the first.

He gave a gentle knock, not wanting to scare or disturb any neighbours, but he grew a little concerned when there was no answer. He took his keys from his pocket and slipped the silver key into the lock, making his way quickly into the apartment and locking the door behind him.

The television was off in the lounge, although the lamp was left on, it's light bathing the room in a gentle glow that illuminated the cell phone, wallet, keys, and glasses left on the coffee table. A completed book sat beside them, the bookmark resting uselessly on the front cover of the textbook, and the familiar leather messenger bag lay discarded on the end of the couch, the strap hanging carelessly over the arm. Battered grey converse sneakers lay in a heap by the door, the laces entangled in careless disarray, and a purple scarf had been dropped to the side, having fallen from the hook hanging above, where a coat hung.

Derek dropped his keys on the side table and shrugged out of his jacket, dropping it over the arm of the couch as he left the room, and made his way down the corridor to the bedroom.

Inside, the bedside lamp was on, clothes discarded across the chair beside the mirror, and light filtered from the half closed bathroom door, steam hazing the view into the room. Inside, Derek could hear the shower running, so without hesitating, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and made his way into the steamy bathroom.

Behind the frosted glass divider, he could see the slender, pale form of Spencer Reid, his boyfriend of two and a half years. He had ached to hold him ever since the younger man's admission on the plane, and not being able to do so had hurt, especially since he had known his pretty boy was hurting.

He slid the shower door open and slipped in behind the slender form of his lover, his arms winding quickly around the slim waist in front of him. Spencer jumped at the contact, but quickly recognised Derek's touch, and trailed a hand across his forearm as the older man rested his chin on his shoulder.

"You scared me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to."

"I know."

They stood together under the warm spray of the shower, Spencer leaning back into the broad chest of his partner, and Derek tightened his arms around the young man's waist. After a moment or two of silence, Derek turned his head slightly, his nose nuzzling into Spencer's cheek as he spoke.

"How are you feeling now?"

He felt a small smile lift Spencer's cheek.

"Better, thanks to you. I don't know if I thanked you on the plane, Derek. Thank you; you really helped me."

The younger man turned until they were facing each other, their faces less than an inch apart, and Spencer lifted his arms to fit them around Derek's neck. He touched their noses together in a gentle 'Eskimo kiss', and Derek smiled at the action.

He looked into the warm eyes of his boyfriend.

"I'll always be here, pretty boy. No matter what; you need help, you come and find me. I can't help if you don't tell me."

They shared a smile, and then Spencer gave a little squeal as the water suddenly ran cold. Laughing, Derek pulled him from the stall and shut off the water, quickly enveloping the slender man in one of the towels hanging from the rack before grabbing a second one to wrap around his own hips. As they dried off, they shared gentle, fleeting kisses, neither feeling the need to press things further, and when they were warm and dried, Derek led Spencer back through to the bedroom.

As Derek pulled on a pair of boxers from the selection of clothes he kept in kept at the apartment, Spencer did the same, but rather than remaining bare-chested like Derek, he pulled on the football jersey that he had stolen from Derek the first time they had slept together. Derek had woken to find Spencer making coffee, wearing nothing but boxers and the jersey, which he had found whilst looking for something to wear after he found the shirt he had worn the night before on the floor of Derek's bedroom, ripped and missing a substantial amount of buttons. It had seemed right, Spencer wearing his jersey, and he could never get enough of seeing his boyfriend wearing his clothes.

Slipping into the bed, Derek lifted the other side of the duvet for Spencer to slip in beside him. When the younger man curled up against his chest, Derek wrapped his arms around him and hugged him close. Pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, he murmured low in the other man's ear.

"I love you, Spencer Reid."

He felt Spencer smile against his pectoral and stroked a hand down his hair. Spencer sighed happily and tucked his head into Derek's neck.

"I love you too, Derek Morgan. So very, very much."

Derek felt a smile spreading across his face and cuddled the young genius against him a little closer.

In this one moment, with his pretty boy safe and warm against him, life was perfect.

And with Spencer by his side, no matter what life threw at them, perfect it would stay.

4

Sophia Perez Mourin 


End file.
